


I wish I knew how to quit you

by kuriositet



Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Drug Addiction, Drug Use, M/M, Self-Destruction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-24
Updated: 2012-06-24
Packaged: 2017-11-08 11:26:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/442712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuriositet/pseuds/kuriositet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Frank wakes up alone, but that's not how he spent his night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I wish I knew how to quit you

**Author's Note:**

> Written in 2011, posted on LJ and DW. Title comes from Brokeback Mountain but the stories have nothing in common. Beta credit to [happilyappled.](http://archiveofourown.org/users/happilyappled)

Frank wakes up alone. The bed is cold. He needs a shower. There’s dried up sweat all over his body and his hair feels gross. There’s a slight ache in his body when he stretches out, a slight protest coming from the muscles he rarely uses. He kicks the covers off and glances down, finding a hickey on his hip.

*

Frank was making coffee last night. He remembers it perfectly. He was studying, preparing for his exam on Tuesday, so he made a pot of coffee to keep him awake and focused for a couple of hours. He even poured himself a cup, added warm milk and used one of those cute little cups his mother gave him, the ones with little sweaters. 

He’d been on his way back to the couch where all his books were spread out when the doorbell rang, alarmingly late for a Sunday evening, but when he looked through the peephole it was only Gee.

That’s when he set the cup down.

*

The water’s hot and it feels nice as it washes over his tired body and rinses away all the dirt. He found vomit on the toilet seat when he entered the bathroom, courtesy of Gee, of course. There’s also a message written in lipstick on the mirror. Where Gee got the lipstick, Frank doesn’t want to know, but it’s bright red and reads “XOXO”. 

*

“Gee— Gerard, what are you doing here?” Frank asked. Gerard was leaning against the doorway, long, black stringy hair hanging all over his face, dark skinny jeans too loose around his hips. A ripped t-shirt was hanging off his chest, an old, smelly leather jacket covering his arms. He was reeking of alcohol and Frank didn’t doubt for a second that he was drunk.

“Because I’m home, and I’ve been thinking about you,” Gee started, taking two steps forward, swaying unsteadily. His first hand touched Frank’s chest, and the second one was heavy on his shoulder. “We had a show here tonight, Frankie. You should have been there.”

Frank could tell Gerard was trying to go for earnest eyes, but his pupils were too blown for it to have any effect. “Ray told me. You know why I won’t go.”

“I miss you, Frankie.”

*

Frank leaves the lipstick message for now. He only cleans the toilet seat because the vomit stinks, much like Gerard had last night, and he needs to piss but he doesn’t want to when it’s right there, staring up at him. 

When he enters the kitchen, the first thing he does is pour out the old pot of coffee and make a new one.

*

Gerard kissed the same way he always did, at least when he was drunk. Dirty, sloppy, like he wouldn’t really mind it if you swallowed his tongue or used it instead of a toothbrush. He was everywhere. His tongue was everywhere. His teeth biting. 

He felt too skinny under Frank’s hands. He felt as if he was going to break. “Fuck, Gee. Don’t you eat anymore?” Frank pushed him away for a moment, but Gee came back, pushing him up against the wall. “Or is popping pills the only thing you do?”

Gee whined and avoided Frank’s eyes, staring at his chest instead, tugging at his shirt in an attempt to undo the buttons. “Frankie, no, Frankie, I just. I don’t wanna talk, okay? I just want you. Just wanna be with you.”

*

He settles down on the couch with his new coffee, intending to study like he was supposed to do last night, but he can’t focus. He finds his phone on the coffee table and checks his messages instead, and finds five new ones. Two from Ray and three from Mikey. He wonders if they had known Gee was going to see him, or if they just figured it out when he didn’t show up to help them load their gear into the trailer. The last call came some time around five in the morning and Frank figures Gerard must have crawled back home around that time.

*

Gerard was a sickly pale, his ribs and hips were protruding and he had so many bruises. Some of them were hickeys, Frank realized, and he figured some of the fingerprint bruises on Gerard’s hips had been given to him at the same time. There were other bruises, though, probably due to Gee falling over on stage, and Frank could tell it was because Gerard was malnourished. 

“You need to stop doing this to yourself, Gee,” he muttered as his messed up ex sprawled across the bed, on top of the covers. Gerard started touching himself, and Frank sighed because, even with the extreme weight loss, Gerard was as gorgeous as ever. Gerard let out a low moan and Frank’s cock twitched in his boxers. 

“The fuck are you waiting for, Frankie?” Gerard whispered, voice breaking off with a moan as he squeezed the base of his dick. “Just come here and let me have your cock.”

*

Frank tries to study. That's what he needs to do; he needs to pass this exam. Of course he can still retake it if he fails, but that won't stop him from feeling as if he went back to College for nothing. It won't stop him feeling like he's a big failure and that the band was what he was supposed to be good at; the band was supposed to be his success. He knows that the band can't ever be a success unless they all, especially Gerard, clean up and get their shit together, though. So he needs to study.

*

He fucked Gerard later, leaving new bruises on his hips and bite-marks at the back of his shoulders. Gerard whined when Frank pulled away to get a condom and offered to let him go bare, but Frank wasn’t stupid. He knew that Gerard was getting around and he didn’t want to risk getting anything from _him_.

Fucking Gerard felt great. It always did. He was so tight, and so hot, and the way he braced himself with his hands on the headboard so he could push back to meet every thrust— it felt _so_ perfect. His skin was so soft and, when he arched his back, Frank licked his spine, tasting it, tasting sweat and booze and Gerard. 

He missed this; he’d never stop missing this whenever he wasn’t fucking Gerard. They fit together. Frank fit into Gerard. Gee moaned loud and desperate, throwing his head back, and Frank swiftly moved a hand to grasp his dirty hair, turning his face just so that he could see the look on Gerard’s face as he came.

*

His phone beeps with a new text message a while later. He keeps reading for a few minutes, or tries to as he tries telling himself that he doesn't care. He does care, though, and he breathes out a deep sigh of relief when he reads the message from Mikey letting him know that Gerard had called him around six that morning, asking to get picked up a block from Frank's building. 

*

“We need to do this more often,” Gee whispered into Frank’s skin, slurring a little. “Like we used to. You should come back and tour with us.” Frank turned onto his side, facing Gerard whose head was resting on Frank’s arm.

“You know why I can’t do that. I love you, and I love the band, but I can’t be with you as long as you’re like this.” He touched Gerard’s face, ran his thumb under Gee’s eye. “You’re killing yourself, Gee.” Gerard made a huffy sound of protest. “You’re underweight, Gee. You’re sleeping around, you’re drunk and, I’m guessing, stoned.”

“You shouldn’t have left, Frank. It was easier with you there,” Gee’s voice was weak and pathetic. 

“I left because of you. I couldn’t watch you do this every night. I couldn’t watch you ruin the band, dragging all of us down with it. I left so that the guys would see, so that they’d understand that you need help, but they won’t. They’ve known you too long. They’re too used to it.”

Gerard looked at him for a while, frowning a little as if he really was taking all of Frank’s words to heart. Then the frown went away and he smiled, a little giddily. “Do you think you can get it up again?” he leaned in close, whispered stale vodka breath onto Frank’s lips. “I wanna ride you.”

*

He's on his way out to buy a pack of cigarettes when he finds the coffee cup from last night. It's still where he left it, on top of the chest of drawers by the door. It's the same way every time Gerard comes over like that. Whatever Frank is doing, he ends up putting it aside and forgetting about it until the next day, until Gerard is long gone, off to another state to play another show, drunk and high and not with Frank.

*

"I still wish you'd get better, Gee," Frank whispered, tugging Gerard a little closer where he was curled into Frank's side. Gee was quiet and still and most likely sleeping, not that it actually mattered because it wasn't like he ever listened to anything Frank told him anyway.

He heard a soft, drunken giggle, though. "I'm not sick, Frank. I'm happy. I'm great. I'm actually doing something for once. I'm doing something good." He kissed Frank's cheek, but misjudged the distance between their faces and bumped his nose into Frank's face rather hard.

"You're not well, though." Frank sighed. "And until you get well, until you get clean and sober, you have to stop doing this. You have to stop coming here."

"Why?" Gerard said with a small, innocent voice. "We always have a great time together."

"Because I can't control myself. Because every time you're here, it feels like I'm taking advantage of you."

*

He smokes five cigarettes on his walk back and then just standing outside his building before going back up. He needs it to calm his nerves, and he needs an excuse to not go up just yet. When he does, the coffee cup is still standing there, staring at him as a reminder of how screwed up everything is, of how much he keeps fucking up. He broke up with Gee because he didn't want to be with him until he was clean, but every time Gee comes over, there's a part of Frank that forgets that, and he can't think of anything but how badly he misses Gerard.

He takes the cup of gross, cold coffee and pours it out in the kitchen sink and washes it. He puts it back on the shelf where he had taken it last night, and it's almost as if last night never happened. There's still the hickey on his hip, though, and the slight soreness in his body, as well as the never-ending ache of missing Gerard. For the first time he wishes Gee had stayed, that he'd had a chance to see sober Gerard, or at least hung over Gerard. 

Gerard hadn't stayed, though. He never stayed.


End file.
